


Fucking Frying Pan

by 2babyturtles



Category: PLAYERUNKNOWN'S BATTLEGROUNDS (Video Game)
Genre: Blue Circle (PLAYERUNKNOWN'S BATTLEGROUND), Frying Pan (PLAYERUNKNOWN'S BATTLEGROUND), Gen, Inspired by Real Events, Swearing, Video & Computer Games, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2babyturtles/pseuds/2babyturtles
Summary: No one can outrun the blue mist.





	Fucking Frying Pan

His black helmet shone in the dim lighting of the abandoned hotel room as he crouched beside the door. So did his gun. The sound of approaching footsteps made his chest shiver and he whispered into his headset two words: “They’re here.”

Before his team could response, the door was pushed open and gunfire erupted. He clutched the barrel of his gun, ignoring the vibrations in his fingers, and stood to face the onslaught. Firing carefully and ignoring the hail of bullets that threatened him in return, Toast9677 downed two members of the three-man squad and killed the last. Moving methodically, he bludgeoned the first two with a frying pan before stepping back and finally allowing himself to take a breath.

The concerned voice of UpstageRook3635 crackled across the airways: “You good?”

Toast9677 swallowed. “Yeah,” he responded. “I’m going to bandage myself and have an energy drink, and then I’ll see what they had. There were three of them.” He explained the encounter in short sentences, focusing on the inventory of his fallen enemies. “Fuckers,” he spat.

“What’s wrong?”

Gunfire in the distance and the sound of a Jeep roaring by outside made their ears perk but they weren’t worried; there was no reason for anyone to stop here when the Blue was so close.

“This dumb fucker’s backpack just has frying pans. Oh, I guess the crossbow’s not bad,” he decided, examining the weapon. “But it’s just frying pans, the crossbow, and scopes for guns we don’t have.” His own pan was back in place and he thought to draw it as he stood, appreciating the weapon’s versatility.

Before he could decide, the gunfire drew suddenly closer outside and the metallic tink of a bullet bouncing off cast iron made Toast9677 shrink back.

“There’s another squad outside,” UpstageRook3635 said through gritted teeth. Toast9677 could hear UpstageRook3635’s own gun firing, his mic picking up the sound.

“Dude, holy shit,” Toast9677 responded. He threw a grenade out the still-open door at random and stooped to pick one up from another of the men he’d gunned down. He threw that one, too.

By the time he got outside, his grenades were doing more damage than he could’ve hoped for and he laughed as another Jeep flipped. Before he could enjoy the moment, he erupted into a hail of swearing.

“Stupid bitch motherfucker,” he growled, leaning into a sprint as an electric blue mist surrounded him. “Fucking shit, dude, I’m not gonna make it.”

“I’m dead,” came UpstageRook3635’s reply a moment later.

Toast9677 laid down and dug through his pockets for the remaining energy drinks he’d been carrying. Chugging them as fast as he could and injecting whatever was in the plastic syringe he’d been carrying into his thigh, he managed to survive several more seconds. The blue mist overtook him, though.

“I hate that you can’t fucking run and take pills or something at the same time, that’s such bullshit,” Toast9677 grumbled as his surroundings faded. He sighed.

\--

“You up for one more?” Brant asked, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck.

Adam didn’t answer right away and Brant could hear him talking to someone in the background, the icon in the corner of his screen flashing to tell him UpstageRook3635 was talking, although he wasn’t talking to him.

“Sure,” Adam finally said.

“Okay. I readied up. They should make it so you can wear the frying pan on your chest,” Brant said. He adjusted his headset and prepared to jump from a plane somewhere between Pochinki and Rozhok.

“I’d rather protect my ass,” Adam said.

“Of course you would,” Brant said, marking his map. “Stay behind me then, motherfucker.”


End file.
